Sometimes
by Krisdaughter of Athena
Summary: Sometimes, the revolution hits a bump in the road. And sometimes, mentor and apprentice fight. Song is Sometimes by Skillet. I OWN NOTHING, NOT THE SONG, NOT THE BAND, NOT THE FANDOM


Sometimes

Beck walks in, head hanging low.

_I failed…again_

He doesn't know why, the fight is all a blur_._ All he knows is that the extra training he's going to receive is going to pile up with his job and growing headache.

Tron looks up slightly as he hears Beck walk towards him.

"Well? Did you complete the mission? Did you get the intel?"

Beck bites his lip as he tries to remember what exactly happened.

_A blur as a fist hits him in the chest._

_"__What a waste."_

_Beck stands before fleeing into the sky from the blood-lusted soldier._

"Well?"

Beck sighs and shakes his head, "No. I didn't complete the mission. I failed."

He sees Tron tense, "Very well. We'll continue training. We can't be caught off guard when CLU makes his move."

"I can't." He says, rubbing his forehead slightly, "Got a job, remember? Zed and Mara will flip if I miss my shift _again._"

"Beck. With CLU coming closer, you'll have to choose what is more important. The Uprising, or your job."

Beck grits his teeth, "You sound like Cyrus."

Tron stiffens and his head snaps back to Beck.

"Take that back." He growls dangerously.

Beck glares at him slightly, "No. Cyrus forced me to choose between you and my friends and now _you're _forcing me to choose! I can't believe you!"

"I am _nothing_ like _him_." Tron hisses.

Beck steps back slightly and Tron composes himself.

"Speaking of Cyrus, how do you know him?"

Beck clenches his wrists and the scars burn, "Just by passing by, that's all."

"You usually don't get scars from 'just passing by'. What did he do?"

Beck stiffens and clutches tighter, "N-Nothing."

**Sometimes, when I lie**

**I know you're onto me.**

Tron turns and in a flash, grabs one of his wrists to show the scar glowing brightly.

"Beck answer. _Now._"

He jerks his hand out of Tron's grip, "Fine! I found his prison and he tried to use me to escape. He did and he came after you and Zed and Mara! He almost killed you and he killed Abel! AND I'M RESPONSIBLE, BECAUSE IF I HADN'T TAKEN A FRAGGING SHORTCUT LIKE ABEL SAID, I WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN LOST AND CYRUS WOULD STILL BE THERE! THAT'S WHY!"

Beck's voice falters and he realizes there are beads of tears in his eyes. Tron looks at him in stunned silence and a glimmer in his eyes Beck sees.

_A glimmer of blame._

Turning on his heel, he walks quickly away and pulls the door open. He thinks he hears Tron say something but he ignores it as he slams the door behind him.

He paces away towards his bike and climbs on, his tongue stinging from what he had said.

**Sometimes, I don't mind**

**how hateful I can be.**

Zooming out of the hideout, he lets his mind wander. He's not ready to return to Argon, his friends will wonder about him in his current state. He doesn't want to go back to Tron, obviously, and with a sad pang, he realizes he has nowhere else to go.

Beck looks up as he comes by a cave. He stops and closes his baton, looking at the size of the cave.

Sighing, he stumbles in and leans against the back wall. He slides down into a sitting position, his knees up to his chest. He looks to the barren landscape just beyond the cave mouth.

_Every time, he finds a way to say I'm a failure._

_Why do I even try?_

Biting his lip, he feels those unwanted tears fall. They are not tears of nothing. They are tears of sadness, exhaustion, disappointment, and defeat.

_I'll never reach his true standard of the Next Tron._

He bows his head and lets the tears fall in his solitude, where failure is the only thing he can contemplate .

**Sometimes, I don't try **

**to make you happy.**

**I don't why I do**

**the things I do to you**

**but,**

**Sometimes I don't want to be better.**

**Sometimes I can't be put back together.**

**Sometimes I find it hard to believe**

**there's someone else who could be**

**just as messed up as me.**

* * *

Tron looks at the door in shock as Beck slams it and leaves.

He had seen more than what Beck thought.

He saw the dark rings under his apprentice's eyes, the set jaw of grief, and the tears of self-disappointment. He also saw all those were secretly pointing at him, despite how many times Beck tries to turn the crooked finger on himself.

**Sometimes, don't deny **

**that everything is wrong.**

Stunned, he leans back against the wall.

_It is my fault._

**Sometimes, rather die**

**than do admit its my fault.**

Beck had often showed up like that lately, and he hadn't bothered to notice. He had told himself that Beck was fine, he _had _to be, for the sake of the Revolution. But now, Beck had snapped, and his apprentice is not likely to forgive him. Or come back, for that matter. Not this time.

**Sometimes when you cry **

**I just don't care **

_But not this time._

Tron stands fully, and grabs his baton as he leaves the hideout.

_Where could he be?_

_Not in Argon, he wouldn't go near anyone if he is mad, not after the weapon._

He frowns when he realizes something.

_He can't have gone far. Between the work from his job and the training, he hasn't had much time for sleep, let alone time to go anywhere else that might provide solace._

_The Outlands, then. He's spent a lot of time there._

He puts on his mask and climbs on his bike. He zooms off into the Outlands, looking for Beck.

**I don't why I do**

**the things I do to you**

**but,**

**Sometimes I don't want to be better.**

**Sometimes I can't be put back together.**

**Sometimes I find it hard to believe**

**there's someone else who could be**

**just as messed up as me.**

Beck feels the tears finally stop as he looks at the now wet ground at his feet

* * *

, the places where his teardrops fell obvious against the stone ground.

He clenches his fist as he hears a noise nearby. His nails dig into his palm and he winces in sheer wrath.

_If only someone could understand how I feel._

**I want someone to hurt**

**like the way I hurt.**

**It's sick,**

**but it makes me feel better.**

Before he can understand what he did, he pulls his fist away from the wall, his knuckles scraped and bleeding blue. The pain shoots up his arm, but he doesn't care. He feels power, power over what he's doing after so long. Tired of being the pawn, the second to everything.

_It feels so…good. Yet so bad._

He raises his fist to hit the wall again when he hears a motor. Turning around and dropping his fist, he sees a familiar figure get off his bike.

"What do you want?" Beck growls, turning away from him and sitting down.

He hears Tron's mask flip off. He says nothing but calmly sits next to Beck.

"I can see why you're mad." He says after a couple moments, "I shouldn't have pushed you so far. I'm sorry."

Beck looks away, biting his lip.

Tron sighs, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am like Cyrus."

**Sometimes I can't hide**

**the demons that I face.**

"But I'm like someone else, too. I'm like you."

Beck looks up to him, clutching his wrist.

"As for those scars…"

Tron gently takes Beck's wrist and examines it.

"They can be proof that you've survived another battle, not that you lost something. I'm upset about Abel as well, he helped when I needed him, but it's not your fault. Cyrus was my mistake, not yours. I'm to blame."

Beck looks down at this, unsure how to take it.

Tron watches him, his eyes flickering, "I'm sorry Beck."

**Sometimes don't deny**

**and sometimes sinners sometime say:**

"I forgive you."

Tron looks up, "What?"

Beck looks to him in a weary compassion, "I forgive you. It wasn't your fault either. Cyrus made himself who he is now."

Tron nods, and stands.

"You going to Argon?"

Beck looks up at the sky, "Crap. No, I missed my shift on accident! Zed and Mara are going to kill me!"

Tron watches him pace tiredly as he tries to think of a way past.

"You can come back to base, if you need to, which you do. When you get to the Garage tomorrow, tell them you got lost. Until then, you can rest."

Beck looks at Tron in disbelief, "You serious?"

"I am."

He lets his shoulders slump, "Thank you."

**Sometimes I don't want to be better.**

**Sometimes I can't be put back together.**

**Sometimes I find it hard to believe**

**there's someone else who could be**

**just as messed up as me.**

Later, Tron walks by the room he lent to Beck for the night. He stops, as he hears a long forgotten noise when he joined solitude.

Snoring.

Out of curiosity, Tron opens the door to see Beck is collapsed on the bed, his body rising and falling as the nasal noise comes from.

Smiling, Tron walks over to the sleeping program and he's reminded of the time Yori complained that he snored whenever he got _too _tired. Now, he can't help agree with her complaint, but about Beck.

Yet, he'll let him sleep. Even the leader of an Uprising needs time to rest, or there would be no revolution.

Well, at least not an effective one.

Carefully, Tron pushes up the fallen blankets on top of Beck.

"Have a pleasant cycle." He mutters, before back out of the door.

**Just as messed up as me.**

**I was in need of some Tron and Beck father-son relationship, so I made this! I hope you enjoyed and leave a review if you liked it.**

**Bye!**


End file.
